


Maglor goes to Valinor

by justreaderr



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Return to Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justreaderr/pseuds/justreaderr
Summary: Maglor decides to return to his home land and seek the forgiveness of the Valar.





	Maglor goes to Valinor

**Maglor goes to Valinor**

Idly Maglor threw pebbles against a rock on the other side of the small plateau while he waited.

The years of the Second Age he had spent wandering, from time to time he had sneak into Lindon to keep an eye on Elrond, but he had always been proud to notice how well the young half elf was doing for himself.

In later years however it had taken a lot more effort to keep him safe and hail, first the fall of Eregion then the last war against Sauron and in between a myriad of smaller skirmishes with Orcs. When he had thrown the Silmaril into the ocean he had hoped that he would not have to touch his sword ever again, but he had to keep his precious little one safe.

During wars it was quite easy to remain among other elves, after all they couldn’t care less if an elf sneaked in to fight for them, they could easily ignore his tell-tale armour, sword, the glow in his eyes and even spontaneously forget to tell their Lords that they had seen his face if it meant that they could remain somewhat safe behind his back trusting that his mere presence would keep many a foe away.

Then with the wars finally over and done with, the young Third Age began and with it, it soon brought a marriage. His dear Elrond had married Celebrian. It had been quite a bit more tricky to sneak in and witness the ceremony, but he had gotten quite good with the long years of practice so he been able to find himself a nice place and had watched, tears of happiness in his eyes.

The little one had finally grown up and for him it meant that he was no longer needed here. The Valar had sent the golden-haired Glorfindel of Gondolin, who had at the wedding sworn himself solemnly to Imladris and Elrond. He would be far more suited to watch the young family than a weary Elvenprince with more crimes to his name than the average orc.

Elrond’s wedding was a grand spectacle which the young half elf used to once again decline the crown of the High King, decreeing that it should be thrown into the Ocean, for there would be no High King of elves in Middle Earth again.

Well, that decision Maglor had to challenge, the Ocean was not the right place for this crown, while he could agree that Middle Earth might not need another High King this crown was more than just a signet of power. It had been given to Finwë by the Valar together with the land that the Noldor inhabited in Valinor, when they sat foot on the blessed land. The crown should have never left Valinor behind and there was only one place where it belonged, and that was the head of Arafinwë, the High King of the Noldor.

When Maglor had left that night, he had allowed himself into Elrond’s chamber first for a maybe final good bye. He had woken his beloved elfling and hugged him close.

_“Ada” Elrond whispered in disbelieve and clinched to him desperately._

_“My sweet elfling, I am so proud of you.”_

_“You’ve been here, you’ve watched?”_

_“Of course I have, I would not have missed it for the world.” He pulled back a little bit to look Elrond in the eyes and smiled sadly, “I have trailed you for so many years, but now you are completely grown up and will have your own family soon.”_

_“What are you trying to tell me, ada?”_

_“I am here to say good bye. My time in Middle Earth comes to an end one way or another. If fate is with us, we might meet again one day, my beloved child. Now sleep.”_

He had sent Elrond back to sleep so their encounter would remain to him nothing but a dream while he had liberated the crown and vanished into the night.

He had decided that he would try to return to Valinor and face the judgement of the Valar, no matter how unpleasant it might turn out to be, but he would not sail. He had no interest in facing Cirdan and try to explain his decision to him nor did he want to get on a ship with other elves which might be sunken by Ulmo if he was not welcome to return.

No, he had decided that he would go East and climb the Kalorme and wait there. The Valar would know if he went up their mountain guarding the harbour of the sun and then they could decide themselves if they would span their great bridge between Taniquetil, Manwë’s mountain in Valinor and Kalorme to let him come and face their judgement.

His journey had definitely not been pleasant especially if only guided by instinctive knowledge he never had bothered to check in his youth. The lands of the east were far too warm for comfort during the day and shockingly cold in the night, which only got worse one he had crossed the Orocani. Dwarves and Second Born believed the world to end there, but Maglor was not fooled by the magic of the Valar and moved through the fog that hid the sunlands.

There it was so hot he could not quite shake the feeling to have walked up directly into a fire dragon’s mouth. But at the very least those lands were guarded by the Valar so he had only to focus on the next step and not whether an orc would jump onto him any moment.

He had found the Kalorme and now sat cross-legged on the plateau on his very top to wait. Three days after his initial arrival he had gotten a visit from Gwaihir the Lord of the Great Eagles, who had informed him that the Valar knew of his presence. Then he had left again, leaving Maglor with the knowledge that should the bridge not appear it was not because of the Valar’s inattentiveness but because they had decided that he was not welcome.

For how long should he wait? Where else would he go?

Questions that went through his head constantly even as he tried to think on different matters. He was an elf, an old one at that, he was patient and while hunger was unpleasant he would not starve and perish in these lands, but while throwing pebbles might be an interesting way to spend half an hour for an elfling it was certainly not suited to entertain him for weeks.

He had brought his harp so he played a bit as well, but his heart was filled with dreadful anticipation and did not allow inspiration to take root. He plugged listlessly at the strings and even sung a few of his favourite pieces until nervousness got the better of him again and he went back to chucking pebbles against rocks.

After the first three months had past he simply gave up on counting the days of his wait. Deciding that the Valar had apparently decided that they would not let him return to face their judgement he began to seriously consider his options. There was of course always the option to jump of a cliff and be done with it. Peeking over the edge of the mountain were the bridge should appear he could see nearly half a mile into the depth, so he would not even have to go far to find a suitable place.

He could continue with his wanderings or go hunting for orcs until one nice day one of them cut him down. Or he could simply continue to sit on the top of the mountain, trusting that the Valar would at least inform him of their decision.

Since that seemed to be the easiest choice he decided to do just that and started to make himself comfortable there.

A few more weeks passed by and finally he could hear the sound of mighty wings and he looked up only to find Gwaihir once again landing on the mountain and next to him Maglor noticed that were before only a deep abyss was now a bridge had appeared.

“If you still seek to return to Valinor, Prince Kanafinwë, then step on the bridge but first hear the conditions. You have to move forward all the time, never stop, never turn around and never go back, no matter what. Obey this command and trust that you will not be lead astray.”

The elf turned his attention back from the bridge to the giant eagle. Always moving on and never looking back? That was not that hard of a condition, but what let him hesitate was the rest of the message. Obey and trust. In his head a voice sounding suspiciously like his father cursed angrily that an elf was not inferior to the Valar and had not to obey their command and that the Valar were self-serving megalomaniacs that could not be trusted.

Closing his eyes for a moment he breathed in deeply, then he nodded, but asked, “What if I tire?”

“You will not tire. Go now and continue walking until you have left Ilweran behind. Do not stop, do not try to walk back and do not look behind you. Obey and trust.” Gwaihir repeated again and ere Maglor could ask what would happen if he were to do so nevertheless, the eagle swung himself back into the air and flew away.

Slowly Maglor stepped up to the bridge and found it coloured just like the rainbow it was named after, or maybe it was actually a rainbow. It seemed somewhat translucent and not actually made to bear an elf. He swallowed hard – trust and obey - and then took the first step.

While his feet sunk in somewhat the bridge bore his weight as unexpected as it seemed and he walked. First the journey was rather nice, he walked over all of Middle Earth and could see first the Orocani and many an unknown land, then he spotted the Great Greenwood and Lorien, followed by the Misty Mountains where somewhere Imladris was hidden. He walked on until he reached the Blue Mountains and finally the ocean.

There came a point when even from his elevation he could see nothing but blue anymore on the ground but before him on the bridge thick white clouds seemed to appear, but as he had been told he walked on. The clouds surrounded him until there was nothing anymore to be seen but the white of the clouds and the colourful bridge beneath his feet.

He walked on and suddenly his surroundings started to change. The clouds became darker, more threatening and he strained his ears. There were people shouting, he moved faster to see what was going on and suddenly saw himself, the eyes wide, filled with panic and a sword in hand. The picture became clearer and then he was back in Alqualondë, fighting and killing.

Crying out in shock he looked left and right, finding nothing but horrible memories, but the scenes continued on, showing what he had never seen before, elves kneeling next to fallen ones, elflings crying next to their fallen parents, elves holding their dead little ones in arms.

He nearly stopped in his tracks ready to turn around and flee from this horror, but reminded himself of the conditions of how he had to continue on and just barely managed to keep moving forward.

The scenes passed and he walked in grey clouds for a while until suddenly he appeared again, this time the face filled with anger as he moved to cut down elves. Maglor moved on faster, clenching his eyes tightly shut to but the images appeared before his inner eyes.

Once again he saw those he had stolen loved ones from and when the images vanished again they left behind even darker grey clouds and Maglor already knew what would await him soon, the third kinslaying. He did not want to see that again, but he could not stop, he had to continue walking.

He slowed his steps and shortened his strides, yet that would only put off the inevitable. The clouds darkened further and he could already hear the first screams. With a pained whine he shook his head; no he did not want to see that again, He did not want to see all the suffering he had caused. But he had no choice, except for turning around.

But the warning of Gwaihir...

What would happen if he were to stop or turn and return to Middle Earth? He was to obey the orders given to him, but how could he, if he had to face all this misery he had caused again. If he had to see the grieving faces of those, who had lost loved ones through his hand.

Obey!

It was so easily said yet so hard to do. He had never been very good at obeying orders to begin with, not even when he had been young and they came from those he loved and respected such as his father and grandfather and to a slighter degree his elder brother and uncles.

But now?

No, he shook his head. He had decided that he would face the judgement of the Valar and to do so he had to obey and move on whether he liked it or not. So he hurried up to get it over with as soon as possible.

He ran through the battlefield the hand pressed over his ears in the futile attempt to escape the screams of agony and desperation and the cries of sorrow and loss. Only when he came to little Elrond and Elros cowering in front of him in fear he nearly froze mid-step. Staring in agony when he recalled how afraid his beloved elflings had been in the beginning, how they had cried and the nightmares they had suffered because of him.

Over the painful reminder he nearly forget to move on, but now he did not want to anymore, he wanted to go over and protect them from himself. To remove that anguish and fright from their faces, but knew he could not. He moved past them and had to fight the urge to turn around to continue looking at them.

But he had to move on, vanishing in a continually darker growing cloud. Then suddenly the masses thinned out and he could see nothing.

Well, nothing but endless darkness, not even a star in sight. Horrified he looked around, fear clouding his mind. He was an elf, he did not like absolute darkness. No, that was a lie, he was terrified of it, completely and utterly terrified. Maglor moved forward with baby steps, his eyes wide with horror when the illuminating clouds slowly vanished, leaving behind nothing but darkness, even the bridge had lost its glow melting into the darkness of what could only be the void.

A desperate wail left his throat as Maglor looked around and the first frightened tears ran down his face. He wanted to be back in Middle Earth and hide somewhere with much light. He had to turn around and run away, why had he stepped on the bridge, why had he not listened to his father’s voice that had warned him. The Valar could not be trusted, they were leading him astray, surly.

Instantly his feet started to sink into the bridge and he jumped in panic. What was going on? Why was the bridge vanishing? Somewhere in the distance he believed to hear an echo of Gwaihir’s words. “Obey and trust. Trust that you will not be lead astray.”

How could he trust, when he was suddenly completely alone in the darkness with not even a spark of light? How could he trust that the Valar had not tricked him into handing himself over to the endless void? He wanted to see Elrond again and his mother and uncle, he did not want to be lost here.

Closing his eyes he focussed on them in an effort to starve of his fright, at least a little bit. He wanted to see them again, this bridge would bring him to Valinor, the Valar were not trying to lead him away. He repeated it to himself again and again. And slowly the bridge beneath his feet grew more and more solid again. Nevertheless the tears continued to run down his cheeks and he pressed his eyes close to pretend that the darkness was only caused by his eyelids and not the void.

Shaking like a leaf he moved further along the bridge praying silently that the bridge would not vanish and that the darkness would be gone soon. It was when the air around him suddenly changed that he reopened his eyes and after two more steps he finally had solid ground beneath his feet again. He took a few fast gasps for air in an attempt to calm his panicked horror down again, but it was a futile attempt. To deep sat the shock of the travel.

Eonwë, who had been sent to receive the elf and bring him to the Ring of Doom to hear the judgement found himself, the moment he stepped forward to address the renegade prince, with his arms full of elf nearly vibrating with fear.

Blinking confused he decided that it would have been wiser to ask Arafinwë to retrieve his nephew, the King would at least know what to do in a situation such as this. Completely out of his element the Maia stood still as a statue and waited until the other’s death grip loosened somewhat, then he stepped back and spoke.

“Be greeted, Prince Kanafinwë, I have been tasked with accompanying you to meet with the council and hear their judgement.”

Blinking still quite shaken Maglor managed to nod, which in turn caused Eonwë to spin on his heels to lead the way.

The elf trailed after the Maia looking around and taking in the familiar lands. It has been a very long time and still nothing had changed, everything looked like it had, when he accompanied his father to hear the council’s judgement after he had threatened Nolofinwë with his sword. But this time it was him who had to face a judgement and he had done far worse than merely pointing a sword at someone, he had stuck his sword into multiple elves.

Slowly and in fear he entered the Ring of Doom and risked a glimpse around. The burning eyes of fourteen Valar stared back at him, as well as those of Ingwë, Olwë and Arafinwë. For a moment Maglor considered whether there was a way to get himself entirely dead, not just in Hroa but most importantly in Fae to escape them.

“There is no way” Manwë answered his thought evenly, “It does not lay within the nature of Quendi to die completely, Prince Kanafinwë, a Hroa might die, but never a Fae. You have come to the Kalorme to wait and see if we would allow you back and face our judgement, am I right?”

“Yes, my lord” Maglor murmured and then knelt down.

“You had to wait for quite a time, because we have not just decided whether you will be allowed back or not, but also because we have already passed our judgment of your deeds. You have rebelled against us and left these lands with no permission to ever return. Through your own hand seventy-three elves have lost their lives in three kinslayings, many more were injured. And in the end you stole from my camp the Silmaril even though you had been told that you had lost any claim to them. Do you deny any of this?”

“No, my lord.”

“You have chosen to spent the entire Second Age of Arda alone to punish yourself for your deeds, is that right?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do you think it was an appropriated penalty for you deeds?”

“No, my lord, there is nothing that could balance out what I have done.”

“So would you deem banishment to the void the only just punishment?”

Maglor’s blood froze in fear when he thought back to the horrible last part of his journey here. He did not want to go back there, it was horrible lonely and frighteningly dark.

But slowly he nodded, it was the only punishment that seemed appropriate.

“When my brother first rebelled against everything and sought to twist and subdue all of Ea, we did not banish him to the void. Only in the end I decided this with the permission of the Allfather. He was evil and bad through and through, you however were misled and bond by your father’s foolishness. You sought not to bring harm and suffering for the simple joy of it, nor did you took pleasure in other beings’ suffering and you regret your deeds greatly.”

Without lifting his head the kneeling elf listened to the slight commotion when everyone around him rose.

“You are a far harsher judge of you own fate than we are, Prince Kanafinwë. We accept your 3500 years of self-inflicted banishment as punishment for your deeds. You will return with Arafinwë to Tirion and stay with him. You will not turn on me again and will not leave my lands without my permission. I have allowed the elves into my lands and with this, they became mine. You are mine. This you have known already, it is time that you reinforce that knowledge within yourself, cast your father’s foolish notions out.”

Hearing the Valarking’s claim he winced slightly, but after hearing that he would not be stuck back into the darkness his heart was so light in his chest, he easily managed to lower his forehead to the ground, “As my lord decrees.”, he bit his lip but then continued, “I am yours.”

“You have brought something along as well, haven’t you? The time to return it to its rightful place is near. Until we meet again, Prince Kanafinwë.”

When Maglor looked up the Valar had all vanished and only the three Elvenkings were still there. Shifting his weight the black-haired Noldo rose back to his knees, but remained there when Arafinwë stepped up to him. They looked at each other for a long moment, but then the golden elf dropped to the ground and pulled his nephew into a crushing hug.

Slightly shocked it took Maglor a few seconds to respond and fit his arms around Arafinwë and hugged him back. They remained like this for quite a while until finally the High King drew back and looked the black-haired elf over. “Makalaurë you can’t even imagine how glade I am to see you again. All my family by blood left, but at least I now have got one nephew back.” He moved forward to press a kiss to Maglor’s forehead and hugged him again.

The elvenprince gladly pressed his face beneath Arafinwë’s chin and closed his eyes. While the age difference between his uncle and himself was hardly worth mentioning, the golden elf had even in his younger years radiated an air of calmness and gentleness, had always been an elf around whom one could not help but feel safe and secure.

“My heart sings with joy to be here and with you, uncle.” Maglor offered honestly.

After a moment of content silence, Arafinwë rose and pulled the dark-haired elf along, “Come, Káno, let us go home.”


End file.
